To Win a Special Agent
by Ermine aka Tree
Summary: Daddy always says that when I want something, I get it, and it's true. I'm good at making people do what I want. Except for one person. Except for him. Special Agent Dale Cooper, the man I think I'm in love with.


Author's Note: I wrote this a long time ago (2006, I think) and I'm not sure why I never posted it. It was originally a pastiche assignment for my sophomore English class where we were supposed to imitate the style of one of the chapters in _The House on Mango Street_. Being the obsessive little _Twin Peaks_ junkie I was at the time, I decided it would be a great excuse to write something from Audrey's perspective, and I ended up with this rambling, stream-of-consciousness ficlet. I'm curious as to how well I did at capturing her voice, so feedback is greatly appreciated.

Disclaimer: All _Twin Peaks_ characters and references belong to David Lynch and Mark Frost.

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To Win a Special Agent

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Daddy always says that when I want something, I get it, and it's true. I'm good at making people do what I want, and a lot of the time what I want is compliments. I like it when people say how charming I am and when boys flirt with me. I think maybe it's because nobody pays attention to me at home, especially Daddy, and that's probably a bad reason, but I like it anyway. And the part I like most is that I can get _anybody_ to give me a compliment, and once I can make them do that, I can make them do anything.

Except for one person.

Except for him.

Special Agent Dale Cooper, the man I think I'm in love with.

When he says nice things to me, it makes me feel like I'm floating, and I want it to go on and on forever, but no matter how hard I try, I can't make him do it if he doesn't want to. I've tried everything, everything that's ever worked on any boy before, but none of it works on him, and I don't know why. It's driving me crazy trying to figure it out, and it's like when I used to make myself so dizzy by walking in circles that I fell down.

Maybe it's because he isn't a boy. There are so many things that make him different from all the boys I know, and maybe it's one of those things that keeps him from doing everything I want. Or maybe it's because he works for the government, and so he's used to people trying to trick him. Maybe it's because of the way he is, always serious when he needs to be, or maybe he's just smart. Maybe it's the same thing that makes it hard for him to like me the way I like him.

I don't know exactly how old he is, because I've never really asked him, but if I was going to guess, I'd guess thirty-three. I don't know why, but I would. Probably it's because three is my favorite number, and three twice makes it extra special, just like him. I'm eighteen. I guess that's not really a special number at all, because he says that it's too young for anything more than friendship to work, but what I'd like to know is _why_. I'm practically an adult, even though I'm still in high school. I can do whatever I want, except for gamble and drink, I guess, but I don't think I want to do either of those anyway. He doesn't. I don't think he smokes, either. Maybe if I quit for him, it will win him over.

Because I _am_ going to win, no matter what he says.

I think I'm going to start by becoming beautiful. I know everyone at school already thinks I am, but if they could see me without all the lipstick and eyeliner and high heels, they'd know I'm really not. I want to be beautiful in a dangerous way, like a wounded white tiger, all black and white and red, because then he'd like me more. I know he would, because James Bond always fell for the mysterious girls with the red lips and guns, even if they turned out to be evil.

Sometimes when I wake up in the morning, I look in the mirror and I think I look like Donna, like we could almost be sisters, and it makes me want to scream and hit the mirror with my bare hands until it shatters. Donna is the angel that stole all the boys' first crushes just because she was sweet and shy. Donna, who is pretty in a girl-next-door sort of way with her perfect wavy hair like chestnut cream and her Crayon-blue eyes that almost look like almonds but not quite, is always nice and quiet and gets good grades and would never do anything bad like Laura, even though Laura is her best friend. I don't want to be like Donna at all, but when I look in the mirror, I see the angel standing there and I feel like the tiger I want to be is going to lose a battle and drown in the innocent, feathery creature of God.

Then I go put on my red lipstick and smile, because I feel like I'm winning again.


End file.
